Who Said This Was Wrong?

We had kind of a big fight here tonight, a real blow out of sorts, full of sound and fury, bottled up frustrations, and all the rest. Is it not life? Is this not life too? I wonder sometimes. Oh, I know, I’m supposed to be the silent one, the quietly kind little mother who just goes along with everything, just tries to sow peace or good will amongst her children. I’m not supposed to be the one yelling that’s for sure. That wouldn’t be very enlightened of me, now would it? Yeah, but how do I know this was wrong? How do I know this wasn’t what wanted to come up out of the depths of all these nervous systems and onto the screen, like a big splash of shit, brown and stinky, covering all the delicate lines and blurring fucking everything I thought I knew for sure, yet again.

Are we not always going to be surprised? The minute we think we’ve got some hold over this life, over something, does it not show us we don’t? There is always going to be something coming up from who the fuck knows where, is it not true?

Let me tell you how it started. Yesterday was my youngest son’s birthday. It was a pleasant day, except for the ride home from the Chinese restaurant that’d we’d ordered take out from. On our way home, to our surprise we got pulled over. Shit, I think that makes three times in the last five years for me. Do I have a hidden fear of cops or some inner resistance to authority that keeps showing up? Probably. He started with the whole, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” bit and I quite honestly had no idea. I wasn’t driving weird, didn’t run any lights or stop signs, wasn’t speeding, wasn’t drunk or impaired unless you call existing in a different realm altogether somewhat illegal, no, just driving home so I was actually quite surprised when he told me my tags had expired, not last month or last week, but in fucking May. I was like what, no that can’t be, when I bought my tags I’m quite sure I paid for two years, and two years isn’t up yet. I guess I didn’t. How I was remembering it that way is anyone’s guess but we got away with a warning so that was good. Usually they send you a renewal notice but I never got that either or if I did, it went in the trash before anyone opened it. I’m terrible with mail I’ll admit. I go to the mailbox only if I’m expecting something or once a month since most of our packages make it to the front porch. Of course, my son had to use the car in the morning so I was driven to take care of it ASAP, and that kept me up all night. I thought I was going to be driving to an agency which is less than two miles from here but then I discovered the only one’s that opened at seven am were quite a bit farther. I thought isn’t that strange, it’s one thing to break the law if you don’t know you’re breaking it and quite another when you know you are. I thought shit I might get pulled over again on my way to get the new tag. So yeah, my mind was in this weird place all night. I thought isn’t it strange how much fear was coming up for me around just this one little thing? I tried to analyze it then, like was this some collective mechanism or what? Was it the over powering predatory nature of culture showing up? I mean, they got to use something to keep us all paying. What does all this registration shit actually cover, what costs, what are we paying for? Are we paying money so they know how many cars are legally allowed on the roads at any given time? Do they maybe collect it to pay for road repairs? I looked around and thought, it can’t be that, the roads suck around here. We don’t really know. I guess they made it up back in the 1900’s as way of knowing who was using the roads. Who wants to know who’s on the road though? The ever knowing government that’s who, the one that oversee’s all the various aspects of human life, of which you are just a tiny spoke, but put all those spokes together and you got a lot of money to do with what you want. Oh, well, what do I care, my son drove us to the agency and then drove me home. I had him drive me since I didn’t know how long it would take and I didn’t want him to be late to work on his third week there. He was a little late but he said no one gave a shit and this time I did get the two year plan, plus there was a fine, so that was fun. Shit, if they can track it they can charge you for it. They can’t prove we’re in May or that any time has passed but they do what they do.

Anyway, so I was up all night and I only got in bed around 8 am. That was kind of a long haul for sure. My son and I watched all three of the Hobbit movies which is basically how he always likes to spend his birthday. We were set to watch all The Lord of the Rings movies tonight, we were actually into the first one by about twenty or thirty minutes when all hell broke loose. So let me tell you what happened. There’s a frozen dish my oldest son is fond of but instead of buying just one last time we at the store, I bought two and said, maybe my youngest son would like to try one. So right then and there my daughter got it in her head that one was for her older brother and one was for her younger one. So one got eaten already by the kid I usually buy them for, and then he was going to eat the other one too because he takes his meals to work with him, so he was going to put that together when my daughter had an absolute fit that he was taking her other brothers food. Listen I had just spent five hundred fucking bucks on food, so it’s not like there’s a fucking shortage around here at least not today, granted that amount of money doesn’t go as far as it used to. At any rate, somehow I get sucked into the whole drama because my daughter wants me to verify that I indeed said the second one was for the other brother, and the first brother doesn’t get to have two. This kind of sucks for me because if you ask me for anything I have, I’m just like, “Of course, take it.” I’d rather my kids use whatever it is since I don’t fucking need it. I don’t actually need anything, if I do I’ll find something else to take it’s place but it makes me happier to give it than to hoard it for myself which is exactly what’s going down right now. It’s the whole “but this is mine” with a twist, “this is his”. My daughter wants me to confirm I said I bought the second one for the other kid which is the last fucking time I’ll ever say anything even close to this shit. Then there’s was some discussion about how the oldest partook of the Chinese food yesterday. Well, I bought a certain amount because I knew there’d be two eaters. If me and my daughter weren’t vegan there would have been four which would have prompted me to buy a different amount, but I didn’t just buy it for the birthday boy and I said so. I said if I had just been buying you food, I wouldn’t have gotten the amount I did but half of that.

Let me tell you all in all, I was just like, “Please, everyone, one request, just shut the fuck up and stop being stingy fucking bastards. You’re acting like starving selfish people right now.” So that pissed off some heads and I was told to shut the fuck up, so I said, “Great fucking idea, you know what? I’m in. I’m going to shut the fuck up but not just right now, no how about for fucking good? Yes, I super like this fucking idea, nothing more to say about shit around here, nothing to say about you and your life, none of it, I’m going quiet. Thank you very much actually.” Needless to say, movie night was now over. My oldest said he didn’t want the food now, he’d just go out to eat tomorrow, no problem, but you know I could tell he was kind of hurt by the whole thing. He cooks food around here a lot and always shares it with his younger brother, who doesn’t even help with the cooking or the cleaning. And now he’s having to go off to some office everyday just to make money, he was complaining to me how there’s not much to fucking do there, they don’t actually teach him or train him in anything. I told him to keep looking for jobs since surely there’s a better fit out there. I guess a person wants to be challenged. I don’t, when it comes to the money or a job the easier the better, but maybe I’m just old. So that was my fucking night. Now I’m just sitting in my room writing this and unloading it all on you. I guess you got to get the shit out. There’s no point to holding it in. I know by next week I probably won’t even fucking remember this shit. We will have all moved on to the next frame of the movie.

Wow, I was super unconscious wasn’t I? Yelling back and all that, probably should have exercised a little more calm and control, don’t you think? Should I ruminate over that? Maybe look into it super deeply to see what my problems are and all that? Wouldn’t that be the responsible thing to do, really delve into the whole family dynamic thing, so I could formulate a better behavior plan? Or did it all go down exactly as it wanted/needed to? It’s hard to know right? Or is it? If I remember one quote it goes like this, “Whatever is, is right.” Can we argue with what is or with what was? We can right. We can go around and around almost anything a million times if we really want to zoom in and have a go of it. Yeah, I just don’t do that anymore. Did the night go how I would have liked it to go? No, not really, that wasn’t something I wanted to see happen at all but it did. It’s kind of late to change it, wouldn’t you say? I could go around and try to smooth out everyone else’s edges over this issue but I’m just not inclined to. I figure it will work itself out however it wants to do that, maybe the kids will one day become estranged from each other or even from me. I don’t see that coming but I don’t know what’s coming, I never will. Fuck, should we get some therapy, just declare ourselves all a little mismatched and unaligned with life? Maybe we go and talk to someone who really knows how reality works because she learned it from some books but has never lived it. Maybe we all learn some type of mindfulness so we can truly sedate ourselves, and get along that way. Or maybe, this is all I really needed to do, just get it out, realize the moment is over and gone, and move the fuck on. Of course, I could harbor some resentments, that’s normally forthcoming, they should have acted better I might tell myself. I didn’t raise them to be like this, no, or maybe I did? Maybe my own belief in lack has spilled over and now they fucking have it? That’s fun but that’s exactly how it usually works. Should I fault them all for their lack of generosity with each other? Maybe I’ve raised a bunch of little bastards, I actually hope so, you need the little bastard in this life. I don’t know maybe there’s a bigger force than me who gets to dictate all this drama. Or maybe a little drama, a little animosity is what we all need around here. It’s not loving the way I know loving but I don’t get to choose what other people call reality either. Or hell, maybe I really do shut up and stop talking. It’s an option, because everything is a fucking option if you know about it. If you can think it, you can try it out. I don’t think I’d be happy that way but who knows, maybe I am, maybe I like it.

I can’t figure out the lives of my children. I can only be here and give what I’ve got to give and hope beyond hope that they find something to do that brings them joy or at the very least spikes their curiosity. One of the hardest concepts to really grok when shit goes south is that your life is really more like a movie real than anything else and you don’t know where the movie plot goes or what it will do for your experience. To see it clearly, you might consider this: everyone is just an actor and when the drama is over they all get on stage and bow for the audience and you are that audience. How real was their performance? How convincing were they? Did you believe the drama was real? When you’re watching a play, you’re moved by the performances but you don’t actually equate the actors with the role they just played on the stage do you? If Billy played a villain, you don’t worry that he’ll go home to abuse his family. No, you know that he was just doing his job as actor by reading the script and pretending it was actually happening, the events were real, his job is to convince the audience of it or he’s not a good actor. It’s not any different in your own life. The only real difference is the actors you’re encountering do think the script is real, they feel it in their bones there’s something at stake, and so they must either defend their position or take some action to protect themselves from further insult. Your job is also to be on stage. Your job is to forget you are on it. That’s not a mistake, that’s the dynamic everyone you know is involved with. It’s not wrong to say your lines however they come up to be said either, sometimes you have to follow the script.

We don’t get these types of scenes too often around here but when we do, they’re usually doozies. Maybe you need the contrast between a loving family and a bunch of shitheads to really grasp the absurdity of life. It’s impossible to really know anything for sure. It’s possible even that our house was descended upon by errant forces that needed a meal of energetic loosh to feast upon. That sounds crazy and I neither confirm nor deny this idea. I just know that what causes all upsets is thinking you have information usually about the future that doesn’t agree with you and quite literally isn’t there. It’s only there in so much as it is a pattern you possess which feels real due to past experiences confirming for you that they are. This confirmation of past experiences doesn’t make them real though, it makes you believe in them, which reinforces the pattern to be held down by them. Basically what ideas do is stabilize the reality you live in. You learn to count on things because your mind is always able to conjure them up for you. The real question is what happens when you insert other ideas, perhaps ones you wish were true, for the ones you learned?

The next day, oddly enough none of us really talked about the night before so I let it go as well. We were kind of just back to the way we always are. My daughter made me some type of healthy as shit vegan muffins, and later in the day when my oldest son was back from work with the car, the youngest ones and I took all three dogs to the trail for a nice walk. I recently bought a ten lb vest to wear while walking so I wore that and really felt I got a workout even though we could only walk for about 45 to 50 minutes before the sun started setting. It’s no place to be in the dark, the last time we got caught out there after sundown we thought we saw rodents on the trail and were quite freaked out. So we were never doing that again, once the light started to fade, we were heading back to the car, quickly I might add. The dogs I think had a great time.

After we got home, it was just business as usual. My daughter cooked us some dinner and everything seemed back to normal except that I had a thought. Why had I actually reacted with such force I wondered? I reviewed the content of the situation and realized something of a truth. The idea that you might keep something for yourself when someone else might need it more than you do at that moment, well you keep it selfishly, basically for your own pleasure, has some sort of dynamic within it due to the reflection. I was remembering then some line, I think from the Bible, wait let me look it up. Okay, so I guess Jesus says this, "For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath." Probably a lot of people misunderstand the meaning but I think it pertains to a life dynamic because to keep something for yourself already basically means you don’t think more is coming. It’s a fear based thought process that tells you to keep something for yourself but why would you do that if you thought you already had plenty? You wouldn’t because if your thoughts or life experience has confirmed you’ve got plenty, always have, always will, you can easily give something away without thinking twice about it. Now I think this is what I wanted my children to get rid of for it can never serve them. Life is a projection, to keep things fearfully has always got to be about a sense of lack, a sense that you might not be able to get it again or get more of something. Giving then isn’t a moral act, something you do because you’re just a nice generous person, no that wouldn’t even work, that would just build up the false self, so to give easily means you think you have enough or exactly what you need, and to think is to feel, but to feel is to see. You see you’re not really getting anything from this world, because it’s completely empty, devoid of even a shred of materiality, all this shit you see is quite literally from the projective quality of human perception. I think I reacted because I don’t want to see my own children make this mistake especially amongst themselves or with each other. In the end, however it always comes back to just me, maybe I always gave for the wrong reasons, probably because I wanted to elevate myself in the eyes of my children, at least on some level. I’ve always thought it was the duty of a parent to give freely to their own offspring but if it is, this is to teach them that there’s always enough. It has nothing to do with being selfless for the sake of selflessness or some type of inner goodness. I never understood how my own mother could withhold anything from me, this was a great source of pain for me. I basically equated her withholding of things, money, whatever with the lack of love. To my child self, it really meant she didn’t love me, which meant something else entirely. I was unlovable. If my own mother didn’t love or value me, who would? I would go out into the world to find out, and the answer was no one, not because no one did, but because love can only come from one place, inside of you. When you know what you really are you can love it, and it’s only then that the things you encounter in the world can reflect this back to you in the way other people act or the things you encounter.

I always come back rather quickly these days to everything is fine, it’s all working exactly as it needs or wants to work. It seems like a process, you actually do grow towards new things and away from others. My son and I resumed our movie watching later in the evening but we’re taking it more slowly now. Since my oldest son’s bedroom is close to the where the TV sits, we turn down the volume quite a bit, too much to watch Lord of the Rings so when he went to bed, we stopped watching out of respect for his rest. Instead my daughter and I watched videos about people moving to Europe called house hunters. Basically some couple or family gets with a real estate agent and only looks at three properties within or slightly below or above their budget and then they choose one. I think we only watch it because we want to see what Europe really looks like in terms of everyday living, and quite honestly, it’s pretty close to what you find over here or maybe wherever you go.

My upper leg felt like I pulled a tiny muscle today, maybe from wearing the weighted vest, I don’t really know. I’ve been wearing it to walk on the treadmill we have in our living room. I like it because I never felt I was getting a workout by walking on it and now I do. I put it on a slight incline, slip into the vest and then carry two three lb weights in both hands. I still like walking outside best but I don’t care for this neighborhood, the vibe is just off for me there, so much so that I’d rather stick to my own house, and now I can. I did the TRE exercise to see if that would get rid of whatever I irritated but it’s still there. I’m not worried about it, I just figure when there’s any pain now, it’s just another little thing that wants me to get rid of it as if a pain in the body really equates to some memory you don’t need around anymore. An interesting video turned up on my feed. I watched while I was on the treadmill. It was talking about writing and how some scientists did some experiments asking one group to write about some traumatic experience they had and the other to just write about something trivial. What the results showed was that the people in the first group actually healed almost 40% faster than the other one, basically coming to the conclusion that writing has some healing property to it. I thought that was pretty interesting but the video said it had to be handwriting, not done on a keyboard, and I don’t see how that could actually matter. Maybe they didn’t test the whole keyboard thing, I’m not sure. Apparently these guys only did it for a total of one hour, just twenty minutes three days in a row. That’s seems like a very slim amount of time to get such a huge benefit which just led me to think, I wonder what it’s doing for me all this writing. I noticed today that my back pain is gone. I actually didn’t even notice it was totally gone until I thought about it today. Isn’t that weird that I could actually just forget all about it and by doing so it wasn’t here and I’m only just now noticing that it isn’t some weeks later?

I tell you this place is stranger but more mechanical than you’d ever think it is. It is only us who really detract from the human experience, nothing else, unless there really are energetic predators gobbling up loosh from us. That whole trip actually reminds me of the Book of Enoch and the stories he tells about angels coming down to earth to mate with the human women. Their offspring according to this little bit of lost scripture says since the kids who end up being giants are half angel and half human when their bodies die, their spirits don’t, and it’s their evil spirits that wander the earth in search of food because I guess the kids they made together were like some kind of insatiable selfish beasts that pillaged all the resources of the earth. That is some weird shit right there. I’m pretty sure that is purely the human imagination at work. The only interesting thing about Enoch is that he is a scribe which means he’s a writer. There’s definitely something about writing it’s implied that does a person some good since Enoch was a good man and he had favor with God. Through the writing, I guess he was shown some secrets about the way things were around here, or maybe he was really being shown what was already in his own mind. There’s some kind of implication that mind records everything and basically forgets nothing not ever. If there’s one mind and only one, then everything that’s ever gone down in imagination is stored in it somewhere.

I wondered tonight though about something else, just women in general, like how is it that women have basically taken up the role of being a victim to so much shit? I mean if you read history, you basically have to conclude that women have really been used as birthing machines or men’s pleasure toys for a long fucking time. Carlos Castaneda, or one of his counterparts wrote in one of the books that every time a woman has sex the man leaves a hole in her energetic configuration. I mean that would explain how woman’s power and energy just continuously leaks out of them for thousands of centuries. Giving birth also leaves a gaping hole according to his material but I don’t know about that. I don’t feel like I’ve got any holes in me now like I maybe did before. I know I had a lot of shame just from my past that had built up in me to the point where I didn’t really feel I could hold my head up in any substantial way before all this. That’s changed a lot but it did change too slowly for my taste. It’s still kind of interesting to me how when it comes to non duality or just the spiritual market place in general, it’s still mostly mens voices we get to hear. There are a few women but the fact that there’s much much less female voices is probably very telling on some level, not because women don’t have just as many spiritual experiences as men do but because even now, most women still want to take the authority of a man over another woman’s and let’s just mention it, but all the spiritual figures who meant anything to humanity are all men. Of course, I don’t say I have any authority, no I’m more like fuck that whole game, seems kind of weird to me. Even wanting to act like you even got some of that shit is strange. What’s not strange to me is possessing your own strength and some type of power to create the life you were meant to live, but for women in this culture it has been mostly lacking. The whole female story throughout the ages seems to be all about how she might serve some man, or something else, but never just her own Truth. Now that I think of it though, I notice that in the Jed books, there are three woman characters who he says are either awake or waking. Yeah, there’s Julie, Brett, and Marichelle, but actually there’s more, there’s Lisa as well, she seems well on her way to something. If there’s mention of any guys on his path, I don’t remember them now. Most of the guy character’s I remember from the books are basically stuck on something except for Melville who is just a historical figure at this point.

Of course, if it was true that everything is recorded somewhere in mind then I think it’s curious to wonder if all the experiences of the women in your family line are passed down into your own configuration or the false self if you will if you are also a woman. Maybe the girls get the female shit and the boys get the men’s side of the family heritage. That could be a lot of shit, much more than a man might have since men have basically ruled this fucking game for most of it. I would be led to think then that everything is going to be harder for a woman just in terms of setting herself totally right again because of all the horrible past memories of systematic rape and shit the females have probably endured throughout history and even from their own husbands. Yeah, just not really a terribly good history there. Well, if any of that is true, I would say it would be even more imperative to go easy on yourself since no one else in history has ever really done it. Women seem to have more feelings as well, like they just have more scars or more deep wounds than men do. Maybe they have more fear to unload just because physically they’ve always been at a disadvantage of less physical strength. Maybe not, maybe I’m generalizing or maybe I’m biased. I’m just saying it would make sense if they did. Well, I don’t even need an argument or some reason to go easy on myself anymore. Shit goes the way it does, it basically has nothing to do with what I am, and I leave it at that. That’s the best you can do if you ask me. So what if there’s an upset here or there, maybe it’s motivating when there is, it leads you down some other path of exploration sometimes, if you’re lucky enough to really look.

I’d like to think that there’s still so much more coming. I don’t know if there is, but I still like to think it. One thing that’s really impressed itself upon me lately is this: I can think and believe whatever the fuck I want to. There is nothing that can keep me from doing that, no outside power can ever penetrate the inner workings of my own mind. On that level, I am free. I will make up my own stories if I want to. In the end it doesn’t actually matter what is true, since nothing around here really is, it only matters whether you like it to be true or not. Once you know that, you don’t choose to believe in shit anymore. No matter the powers or voices that try to sway you into their own stories, you have your own now. No one can refute any of it for it is yours, and yours alone. I wish the same for you. Perhaps it’s not really a matter of finding Truth then but one of creating your own. May we all choose to create wisely I suppose. If we can make up our own stories, we should tell them how we like to. We aren’t actually beholden to the past ones. Perhaps a total rewrite is in order. It certainly seems like a good idea but I only say this for myself, what you do is your own business. I think in the end the stories I learned can leave, I can throw them out or away. They have nothing to do with me.